


Scars - DA: Inquisition One-Shot

by Aneth_Stripes



Series: Dragon Age - Fractured Timelines [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aneth needs hugs, Cullen Rutherford Fluff, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Short & Sweet, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneth_Stripes/pseuds/Aneth_Stripes
Summary: It was his turn to be there for her...if she'll let him.-Soft Trevelyan/Rutherford incoming! Bonus: An image that my heart can't get over.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Dragon Age - Fractured Timelines [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917967
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Scars - DA: Inquisition One-Shot

Andraste’s Grace, her smirk wasn’t going anywhere, was it? Cullen Rutherford did his best to ignore the smug expression Leliana was throwing his way. He, the spymaster, and Josephine were surrounding the war table, planning and crossing off missions, as well as leaving updates for their Inquisitor to look at later. 

“Something on your mind?” He couldn’t take the silence anymore, glancing up at the smug redhead. He swore, if she started teasing him again, they would have a spar. 

“How are things with you and the Inquisitor?” And there it was. 

“Everything is fine,” he replied simply, refusing to dive into detail as he placed a marker down on the map. There, that should be good for Ane- the Inquisitor to see. It was becoming harder to call Trevelyan by her title. Every embrace they had, every quiet moment granted to him, gave him the time to learn about the mage more and more. 

Cullen saw a leader, yes, and a capable woman, but he also saw a gentleness that she always tried to keep stifled in front of others. Weakness, after all, created opportunities. Aneth was naturally a kind person and sometimes he’d often wondered what kind of isolated life she’d been living to be so sweet. 

“Just fine?” Leliana’s smile widened. “Cullen, I have eyes everywhere. Are you sure everything’s alright?” 

“Yes, now if you don’t mind, perhaps we should be speaking about battleplans instead of my- our personal lives?” 

“Of course, of course,” Leliana spoke with a smirk again before returning to the war table. Josephine stifled a giggle but added nothing to the conversation; she wasn’t sure what the Commander would do if he became flustered enough. 

Another five minutes of silence passed before Leliana spoke up again. “All teasing aside,” she didn’t miss how Cullen sighed loudly, “how is she?” The Spymaster hadn’t meant for her voice to soften upon asking but she could not help it; Trevelyan was a treasured friend and had helped her figure out who she was as a person. All Leliana wanted was the same for her, given what she knew. 

Cullen hadn’t quite expected Leliana’s tone to lower, lifting his head to look at her. “She’s fine, last we talked. She’s stressed, but who wouldn’t be with what she has to take care of? I hear a couple of mages came to Skyhold looking to train her, so she’s been preoccupied with handling their tasks.” 

“Hmm.” Her lips tightened to a thin line. Was that not what she wanted to hear? “Alright, I’ll trust your word.” She turned away from him to look at a letter Josephine quietly handed to her. “Good, this is good. Send word to the Northern camps down in the Exalted Plains and tell them to stand guard.” 

“Of course,” Josephine replied, taking down notes. She then glanced at Cullen with an expression he didn’t exactly understand. Was he missing something?

“Is there...something I need to know?” He tried to choose his words carefully, not quite understanding their reactions to his answer. “Have I said something wrong?” 

“No, no, not at all. I’m happy she’s doing alright,” Josephine replied, barely suppressing the surprise in her eyes. 

Right. Cullen frowned and stood upright. “Alright, talk. You’re both hiding something from me. Wait, are you two betting on my relationship?” 

Josephine giggled and raised an eyebrow. “I take better pleasure in betting with you at Wicked Grace. No, it has nothing to do with that.” 

Leliana tilted her head, studying the Commander’s perplexing features on his face. “We take your relationship with the Inquisitor seriously, Cullen, that is why we ask about both of you. Templars and mages, well, I suppose I don’t have to tell  _ you _ of all people why romance is unheard of between them.” 

“I’m aware of the odd dynamic we have, especially during times where templars and mages don’t trust each other.” He wasn’t about to add the issue of the Red Templars into the discussion; it was already there, as distasteful as the topic was. “I...I believe we are doing well. I don’t mind that she’s a mage.”

Though he was still struggling with his demons and nightmares, Aneth had brought nothing but comfort and assurance in his life from the moment he met her. She had expressed her concerns about his view on her being a mage before, but since then, his meltdown included, he’d done his best not to put her through any of it again. Even now he refuses to actively fall asleep beside her, terrified of worrying her to death with his nightmares. 

“Oh...I see.” The glance of concern and disapproval on Leliana’s face was now beginning to worry him. “If she’s alright, then I won’t pry further.” 

It was his turn to question her. “You only ever make that face when you’re considering murder,” Cullen pointed out as he crossed his arms. “Out with it, what aren’t you telling me?” 

“It isn’t my place to say,” she replied coolly. “We should probably focus on the war map for now.” 

"I don’t think so.” He took a step back from the table. “If there’s an issue I don’t know about then bring it to light.” He knew Leliana to be good at word games, but he hadn’t the patience or time for it. There was a feeling he couldn’t quite pinpoint, one that was growing in the back of his head and sending his hairs on edge. Was there something he missed? Had Aneth spoken to her or Josephine about something he’d missed? 

His mind was racing as he thought of every interaction he’d had with her in the past several days; every time he touched or kissed her or spoke to her it was fine, with consent. Cullen never pushed the Inquisitor further than she wanted, never touched her unless she either initiated it, or urged him to continue. 

Did he misstep? Maker help him if he did!

“I-” Leliana sighed and wrung her hands together, “-it is not my place to speak about it, Cullen. However...I suppose you deserve to know at least this much. You say you’re fine with her being a mage, yes?” 

“Of course.” It added to Aneth’s sweet charms, not to mention it was a part of who she was. It wasn’t her whom he feared or kept at an arm’s distance, but magic, or the aspects of it in particular. 

“Then…” Leliana sighed and crossed her arms tightly. “She told me she’d tell you.” 

“Of course she hasn’t yet,” Josephine muttered with a sad sigh. She glanced at Leliana before nodding to Cullen and walking out of the war room, leaving the two alone. 

Leliana didn’t relax when they were alone, scowling at Cullen even though it wasn’t exactly meant to be directed at him. “If I care about the Inquisitor any then I won’t reveal what she must speak about herself. However, I have to ask you, Cullen, if you know where that scar of hers comes from.” 

The scar? Trevelyan’s beautiful face was marked at someone; he knew that much. It was still healing from the looks of it; a long, broken etch that went over her right eye and broke into two separate directions, stopping just above her face. He would sometimes think of it as a river splitting in two directions, with a small knick on the right side of her chin.

It added to her exotic features and freckled cheeks. It was a spot he would always kiss when he got the chance, and he adored the look of surprise on her face each time he did so. She was so precious… To think that someone out there had done that to her angered him in no small amount, but she’d never brought it up so he had assumed she didn’t want to talk about it. 

“No, I’ve never asked.” He sighed deeply. “I might have mentioned it once or twice before we came to Skyhold, but she’s evaded conversation about it. What does that have to do with her being a mage?” It was when the words slipped past his lips that he gave pause. 

Leliana quirked an eyebrow at him. “Must I spell it out for you, Commander?” If he was putting two and two together, then perhaps she needn’t say more. 

“Don’t,” he replied, eyebrows creasing as he started pacing back and forth. “I- she’s never-!” He paused and rubbed his forehead, shock slowly consuming his face. “If what you’re implying if what I think it is...she-she never told me.”

“Do you blame her?” She asked quietly, kindly, giving him a pitiful glance when he stared at her, bewildered. “Perhaps you should go to her and talk.” 

“I will,” he replied, turning heel and almost stumbling over his feet as he left the war room. As he wandered to find her, he tried to think of every time he talked, every time she might have implied something as horrible as he had feared. 

_ “Alone with a mage. That doesn’t concern you?”  _

He shook his head. No, she was talking about him, wasn’t she? The look on her face… uncertainty and fear, of course, but had it been for  _ just him _ ? There was no sign of her in the main hall, leading him to try for her bedroom. His mind raced further, connection dots that made him sicker the longer he thought of it.

_ “You left the templars but do you trust mages?”  _

Everything she had said in the past would imply that she was worried about how he saw her as just a mage, but nothing that directly implied her fear of templars. That was what it was, wasn’t it? “Maker,” he swore, glancing at her empty bedroom and wandering back downstairs. 

_ “You’ve seen the worst mages have to offer. How can you not see that in me?”  _

Aneth was always concerned with his needs and fears, worried about how he thought and felt when she never expressed any of her own. Had she been hiding her inner terrors to face his?

Did the Inquisitor fear templars? Did one hurt her?

Cullen felt his mind swirling and getting dizzier as he left her room, wandering the halls in an attempt to find her. He gave pause for a brief moment and heard her laugh; he’d almost missed it when passing by the training grounds Cassandra spent most of her time in. Hearing her laughter calmed his horrified thoughts momentarily as he leaned against the entrance to watch her from a distance.

The Commander didn’t approach her just yet, willing his mind to calm down. She was training with a sword alongside Cassandra and Adaar, laughing at whatever the Tal Vashoth had just done. She was fine. She was safe. He had to remember that before he approached her. Trevelyan raised her blade to block a carefully controlled attack Adaar had made. Her hands were trembling and her stance was a little clumsy; she must have been out of her element without staff in hand. 

Cassandra stood nearby, calling out tactics and pointing at the Inquisitor’s feet, to which the woman changed her stance before nodding to Adaar. “Again!” Trevelyan shouted. Adaar heeded her command and swung again with intent. Aneth blocked it and though her body trembled, it didn’t waver. 

It never occurred to Cullen that Aneth would think to try a different tactic than relying on her magic and speed. Despite his reasoning for tracking her down, his chest swelled in pride; the Inquisitor was willing to try new things to be a better leader and soldier, and it was admirable more than anything. 

After another few minutes of watching, he finally pulled away from the wall, walking down the steps and approaching the trio of females calmly. Cassandra noticed his approach and smirked. “The Commander is down from his office? How strange.”

Adaar smirked at Cullen and looked at Aneth with a cheeky grin. “Inquisitor, you work all kinds of miracles. I could use some of that.” 

Trevelyan’s face flushed as she lowered her sword, ignoring their remarks to face Cullen. “Commander,” she spoke formerly, fighting the smile that threatened to overwhelm her features.

“Inquisitor,” he replied firmly, giving Eleanor and Cassandra a look. “If you have a moment?” 

Aneth turned to her instructors, who nodded in approval. “Yes,” she replied, handing over her blade to Adaar. She turned and followed Cullen as he walked away from the small training grounds. He struggled to put his thoughts together, not wanting to outright ask her something so intrusive and possibly traumatizing. 

The Inquisitor seemed to be happy just by walking beside him. It felt natural to her, and to him as well, compared to how awkward it was the first few times. Now they reveled in each other’s silence, knowing that love and comfort were to be found in the wake of their silence. Aneth trusted him to keep his title, to continue to work beside her despite his lyrium troubles and occasional biased opinions. 

She trusted him and yet…

Cullen’s sigh broke their peaceful walk as he found himself in the same spot he’d first kissed her: on the walls of Skyhold. “Inquisitor...Aneth. May we speak about something?” 

“You have my attention,” she promised; her lavender eyes glittered as she watched him, her smile patient and waiting. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his words fell flat before he could get them out. 

“I...I, um…” Maker’s Breath, this was harder than he imagined it being. “I’m sure you’re aware of...how I feel about mages, yes?” 

Trevelyan held her smile even as her eyes watched him closely. She was uncertain of the conversation now. “Have they...changed?” 

“What? No!” Andraste guide him. He reached out and grasped her hands. “No,” he repeated firmly, “I didn’t mean to start the conversation off like that. Nothing’s changed, not how I feel about you or other mages.” 

Her tense shoulders relaxed almost immediately as her fingers wrapped around his. “It pleases me to hear that. Are you alright?” Happiness returned to her gaze as she pulled him closer. 

Letting out a pent up exhale, Cullen brought her hands up to his lips, kissing her fingers gently. “I’m worried about you, Inquisitor. What I wanted to talk to you about isn’t exactly an easy topic.” 

Aneth laughed softly as her bright tawny brown cheeks darkened from his kiss. “We’ve had to face a lot of hard topics for a while now. What’s on your mind, Commander?” 

Cullen exhaled sharply, loosening his grip on her hands just in case she wanted to pull back. “I uh, I wanted to ask about your...scar. Where might you had gotten it from.” He didn’t miss how the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. Trevelyan hadn’t pulled away from him, however, gripping his hands harder. 

“Wh-what brought this up?” 

“Concern from a friend,” he replied, leaving a lot unsaid. She caught on anyway and looked up at him. 

“You still don’t know then?” 

“No. I was told to ask you.” 

“Oh.” 

When her fingers slipped from him, Cullen feared he’d crossed a line already. “We don’t have to talk about this,” he suggested quietly, busying his hands by letting them rest on the hilt of his sword. 

The mage shook her head, half-smiling as her hands messed with the ends of her brown hair. “No, I...I’ve been meaning to talk about it. You deserve to know.” But would he swallow the truth well? He must’ve put two and two together already, hadn’t he? “It happened during the mage rebellion. News had spread fast that mages were fighting the Circles, but I’d thought that perhaps we were safe.” She smiled bitterly. “I should have known better.” 

Cullen’s fingers twitched; he ached to hold her, shield her from what had already happened, and the pain that had followed her. “You were caught in the crossfire?” 

“Yes,” she replied quietly, staring at the mountains. “Everything was fine one moment, and then there was an explosion, and then another. The Templars hadn’t outright attacked us so much as we started fighting against ourselves. There was so much blood…” Trevelyan closed her eyes as her nose scrunched. “We were a neutral party, the Ostwick Circle. We would have been fine. We should have…” 

The Inquisitor took a deep breath and shuddered, finally turning to him with eyes so round, he had to wonder if she was with him...or inside her memories. “Some of the mages I knew, some who were my friends, started a riot that the Templars couldn’t contain. Everyone had been so complacent, we thought we’d be free from the fighting.” 

“But you weren’t,” he added quietly, hesitating before reaching over and placing a hand on her shoulder, squeezing firmly. Aneth smiled softly and placed her hand over his. “What happened then?”

“They didn’t know who had caused the fight and were instructed on taking all of us out to be safe.” She shuddered again and closed her eyes tightly. “One had turned on me. I’d been his charge, but that night had changed everything. I didn’t back away fast enough.” 

When she didn’t say more, Cullen knew she was done. Aneth looked as if she were about to weep; her jaw clenched as she took deep breaths. “It’s done. I-I can’t change what happened, only how I look at my fellow mages and how I look at templars.” When she opened her eyes, Cullen half expected to see hatred or fear in her eyes. 

Instead, he found naught but love. The Commander sighed and leaned in, kissing the top of her forehead. “Did you fear me? Loathe even?” 

“A little,” she admitted as she wiped her eyes, “but I knew what side you were on after we reformed the Inquisition, Cullen. I had hoped against hope that you weren’t what I feared you were...and I was right.” She wrapped her arms around him and he returned the embrace, holding her body close to his. 

She slumped against him, closing her eyes as she found comfort in the fur of his coat. Cullen rubbed her back. “Was that why you questioned how I felt about you? About mages?” 

“I...yes, part of it. I was genuinely scared that you would never accept me. After we’d gone to the lake, I realized how I wasn’t scared of you anymore, that you did trust and accept me. I like to think I accepted you too.” 

“If you hadn’t, or haven’t, it’s alright.” There was no possible way he could force her to be okay with him. Thinking back to all he’d been through, it’d taken a lot to get over the fear and hatred of mages and magic. For someone who was contained most of her life, only to be scarred and hunted by the same ones who contained her… Maker, if she was still wary of him, she’d be in the right. 

Yet she wasn’t, or at least she spoke as if she wasn’t. Could he trust her word? Was she trying to make it so he wouldn’t worry over her? 

“I have,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I trust you, Cullen. You aren’t the templar who did this. I don’t blame you for everything that’s happened to me.” 

Cullen held her tighter as his lips pressed against hers. Aneth meeped in surprise, not expecting the kiss but not rejecting it either, as her body melted against his. He pulled back, placing his forehead against hers. “I cling to your words, Inquisitor, more than you realize. If-If I’ve ever done anything- said anything wrong, you can call me out on it.” 

“Relax,” she replied, attempting to repress giggles. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But what if I have? What-what if you aren’t telling me just to get me to relax when I could be helping you?” His fingers kneaded her back gently.

“Trust that I will tell you the truth.” Her eyes locked with his as she reached up to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about what happened to me sooner. I was...afraid.” 

His face crinkled as he smiled, fingers slipping through the brown strands of her hair. “You never have to be afraid of me. I’d give my last breath to protect you.” Cullen then chuckled. “Though I suppose having you fight Corypheus at some point does put a hamper in those plans.” 

The Commander tried to laugh it off, but Aneth could see the anxiety in his eyes. It melted her heart and strengthened her resolve; he wanted to protect her, but the only one who could stop the end of the world was her. It was always her. They both knew this from the very beginning. It never made things easier.

“I have luck on my side, remember?” She flashed a goofy smile and watched as his muscles relaxed. “Trust me to stay alive. I’ve survived to this point and I’ll make it to the end.” 

“Maker, you test my faith,” he muttered; she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to Him, but it wouldn’t have surprised her if he spoke to both. He reached up and caressed her scar with a tenderness that almost left her breathless. “Would you like to know where I got my scar?” 

It was sudden, but Trevelyan found herself curious with his suggestion. “Where did you get it?” 

Cullen smirked. “It wasn’t anything like how you got yours. At some point, it was Hawke who had scarred me from a nasty punch.” 

She blinked in surprise. “Punch? When? W-why?” 

“My beliefs on mages weren’t loved by many, believe it or not.” He reached up and touched his upper lip. “I deserved it. The way I looked at mages was...in poor taste. We’ll leave it at that.” He wasn’t about to share exactly what he thought of mages, hoping that Aneth could put two and two together without him making a fool of himself again. 

“I...can’t affirm or condone his actions,” she replied honestly, “but what I can say is that the scar adds to your charms.” 

“Fair enough.” Cullen laughed softly and kissed her scarred cheek. “I love you, Aneth.” 

“And I, you,” she replied softly, closing her eyes as his lips sent sparks down her spine. “Perhaps...we could share a bed now?” 

“I’d love that.” He tried not to think about the endless nightmares she might have been having while sleeping on her own. It wasn’t fair. If the Inquisitor would allow it, he would be her bedmate for the rest of the nights to come. 

“No more secrets, no matter how small,” she promised. “I want to be as open with you as I can, Cullen. I’m not afraid anymore. I want you beside me every step of the way.” 

The Commander wasn’t the templars. Even if she was wary of them, the Red Templars especially, the mage no longer saw reasons to tiptoe around him. He loved her, cared for her, and was willing to throw himself between her and danger. Trevelyan would do the same in a heartbeat. 

Cullen knew he didn’t have to prove himself to her; perhaps he already had. Yet beauty aside, her scar angered him. He would never show to her, he couldn’t risk it, but if he ever came across the bastard who scarred her, the templar would have a scar of their own to contend with. 

He wrapped an arm around the Inquisitor, pulling her as close as she could possibly be without outright crushing her. “No more secrets,” he agreed, tilting her chin and kissing her softly. No more...except perhaps one. No matter what happened between them, she would never have to face the man who had scarred her.

Cullen would see to it.

  
  



End file.
